My entire life, things have happened to me that were a bit, “off the beaten path”. I often wonder, does this happen to anyone else?
It’s been a long time since I have had an orgasm.
Being highly sexual in nature, it doesn’t take much for me to get my rocks off.
Once, on my way to Las Vegas, while wearing a pair of cut off jean shorts, I reached climax on interstate 15.
Without ever touching myself.
Go ahead, be jealous.
(These jeans! No! I’m not smoking again, it’s an old picture.)
So, it was not so surprising today , while coming home from dropping Tallulah in Barstow with Beans, in my black jeans that I got that sweet sensation!
The vibration of the car was delicate and teasing. The crotch of my jeans was just binding enough and my thong panties wedged in just the right manor.
I was almost in bliss.
I put on the cruise control and slipped on my giant sun sunglasses in an attempt to hide my sex face. Or at least my bedroom eyes.
I cruised along at a steady 65mph. It felt like I was riding an airplane, through heaven.
First I was thinking about Donut.
Then, I was imagining that I was touching myself.
The waves of pulsating pleasure were lasting a really long time. It reminded me of sex with Morthos.
That was the magic thought! The one that was going to stain my seat.
Then, just as I was about to make road kill it happened.
Traffic.
F@@k!
In the bad way.
As I slowed my vehicle so did the vibrations.
I lost my big O.
It was even more disappointing than sex with Brutus.
I had blue slugs.
Once I arrived home, I ran my horny ass into the bathroom and locked the door. I squatted on a rug after pulling my pants down to my knees.
I started tickeling my navy bean.
Once I was wet enough, I slipped my finger into my hole and cleared out some cobb webs.
OMG!
It had been, probably, years since I felt what it was like to have something enter me.
I needed more!
I began looking around. To my left I spotted a pack of lady shave razors. The handles were ribbed and thick.
What a find!
As fast as I could I ripped one out of the package and sat the head on the floor. I straddled the handle. I bounced up and down on it feeling every bit of the ribbing.
I was thinking about Donut. He was the last man to give me an orgasm.
I wanted him BAD!!!!!!
AHHHHH!
Finally, sweet release.
I pulled the handle out of my filthy whore hole and inspected it. I giggled at the milky white mess I left all over it.
What is that appealing aroma?
I put the gooey, rubber, rock-offer to my nose.
It smelled so fragrent.
Floral.
“Wow.” I thought to myself. “I must have the most pleasant vagina, ever.”
The euphoric high stopped dead cold.
Thats when it hit me.
Three letters.
U.T.I.
Oh my god!
Who the hell thinks to put perfume on a f@@king razor?
Someone got paid for that! They think themselves genius! The razor goes in the shower! It gets wet. The scent disappears. I know this for certain because after I washed my crusted, c@nt cooties off the damn thing it didn’t smell like anything at all.
I think the creator is an asshole.
Stop laughing at me!
I know what you are thinking, “Who puts a razor in their furby to begin with?”
You, are also an asshole.
I hate you.
Anyway, once I had this revelation of possible urinary track infection hell, I did what any sexually experienced whore would do.
I sat down immediately to pee.
Nothing came out.
After a few minutes, I made myself poop. That always creates pee!
It did, but just a drop.
If I have to go to he doctor tomorrow it will be to cure my FOURTH UTI this year. All of them for similar, stupid stuff.
But that’s another story.
Damn, I guess you should get 10 stars for boldness alone. SOme people would say TMI but you know, if you put together a whole book of TMI you would have a bestseller!
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